


Blessed Be: Playlists, Fans, Prayers -- The Book of Powers and Potstickers

by alephthirteen



Series: Blessed Be [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015), Supergirl (TV 2015) RPF
Genre: "Good Omens" Asthetic, AND THEY WERE CLOUDMATES, All Gay Girls Go To Heaven, And Their Little Dog Too, Angels and Demons, Behold The Voice of God!, F/F, F/M, Fallen!Kara, From the Heavens Came Femslash and They Saw it and It Was Pleasing, Power Concealing, Respecting Real World Relationships of the Actors, Seraphim!Lena, She is Done with Canon, Stuntwork, Television Sets, The Recursive AU, except not really, like we all are, real person fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25958344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: -----Judea, 33 AD-----"Nice to see you, Lena'asel.   How goes harp practice?""You as well, Kara'zre.  Still on A chord because of the Anno Domini thing coming up.  How goes pitchfork training?""They're letting us do moss next week.  You do know we don't have those, right?""Perhaps I enjoy your scowl."Lena looks up at the men on the crosses."What happened, Kara?"She points at the one on the left."Stole bread.""Stole shoes.""Told them to be nice to each other.""Holy forking stuff," Lena grumbles.  "He should've known better...""Aye, he should have..."-----She presses her hands tighter together."And please make SuperCorp canon and let them be happy together for ever and ever, Amen."A gas main breaks and it death is painless and peaceful.Too young,God thinks.Why not?-----"McGrath!  You're on in three!"Lena'asel lifts her aching head.  Earth smells like smog once again.  Lovely.She reaches back for her wings and finds only specters.  Concealed from the humans."McGrath, you all right?"Metatron's whiskers.  She means ME?
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Katie McGrath/The Luckiest Woman Alive, Melissa Benoist/Chris Wood
Series: Blessed Be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884067
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Make for Yourself a Ship Out Of Pining and Cedar

It's not something **everyone** can do as a career path but God does enjoy being, well, God. The schedule is inflexible but the worksite is posh and quite frankly, a brief stint in retail as Mammon taught them that one has to be one's own boss. Not to say there haven't been setbacks. 

The first universe, with the giant shrimp? Disaster. Nearly bankrupted the company. 

The next, the one with the great, leathery, tentacle-y beasts the size of stars? Never caught on. Important lesson: focus groups _lie.  
_

Third time, as their little humans say, was a charm. Not too hot, not too cold. The planet was interesting enough to keep them on their toes but not so interesting that they all boiled off when the sun rose. Toss eight other planets in the system -- Pluto too, and those naysayers can catch these hands! -- to give it that sexy, sexy, sexy _pull_ and make the little darlings want to explore. The mad idea of strapping a bomb to their back and just shooting themselves at the moon to play golf? That did come out of left field. They will need to water the imagination, get some new science fiction out there to keep the embers burning and hint at gentler ways. Spacetime isn't malleable for no reason after all and something as terrifying as antimatter isn't there for kicks.

They muse on this during their morning jog around the edge of the observable universe. 

Exercise is, of course, unnecessary for the all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful but to remain all-merciful, it helps to clear one's head. Prevent flooding the lot of them in a fit of pique. Well, Again. Today, they're jogging because they like to take the form of a human -- in their image and all that -- and they simply love how much easier it is in a female form with these 'sports bras' and really, such a clever human deserves a nod. Besides which, it's important to defy expectations and humans expect a beard and sandals and flowing robs great big boom and really, sometimes, a loose T-Shirt and yoga pants (with Shiva's permission, of course) is just better. They stick to they though because if any of their children need the solidarity, it's the trans and the nonbinary ones.

They wave to the turtles which carry the flat and terribly silly Alternate Universe 42-Prattchet. The elephants trumpet a greeting, begging for a few peanuts, which they toss. Big, crunchy, honey-roasted things the size of galaxies.

Angels wave at them as they jog back to the throne.

"Whew..." God exhales, flopping down and taking a big swig of the Water of Life. "What's on my schedule?"

Metatron, who really _does look_ a lot like that actor which means there's a security leak somewhere, sidles up beside them.

"Prayers, of course, your worship. Mostly conflicting and marked for ignoring. Kill my enemy, no, kill mine. That sort of foolishness."

"Mmm. Any rain? Prayer for crops? Always a pleasure, crops."

"One, in Oregon. It appears that organic crops are well, _difficult_ and someone forgot that. Free will leads to such things."

"Yes, I know, old friend. You opposed that. Lucifer made a point though, at the peace talks. No different than the plants in the garden unless we added some spice."

God closes their eyes and pulls in all their children, all the little ones, and swims in their hopes and dreams.

"Grant it," they decide, "but follow with a cold snap in the evening because a little boy in Portland wants a snow day because his sister is home from college."

"Very good, worship. One other. Came in last night. Deceased now, poor dear. Gas leak in the night so this is 'should I die before I wake' and all that."

He hands them the recording. Stone tablets are great for a thunderstorm on a mountain but _seeing_ the praying one does help gauge the mood. Knowing their heart of hearts is one thing. Seeing is believing. Not as if there were a shortage of bored angels or magic.

The chisel in the basement where the operations department keeps their Broadcast Specialists flies over the stone and as is below so it is above. The image is moving and represents the true state of the world as it was at the time.

_God, it's me, Margaret. I know I'm not supposed to ask. You're not like, Santa. I stan. Our mall Santa is creepy. Anyway. Please make SuperCorp canon and let them be happy together forever and ever, and let them do whatever they want. Bookstores, coffeeshops, vamipres, road trips, and all the AUs that make them happy. Amen._

"Poor dear," God sighs, stroking the shifting grooves in the limestone image of the girls' face. "She meant so well. Her first crush...first kiss."

"Find her computer bookmarks and grant it," they decide.

"Do you, er, understand the nature of this request, madam--worship?"

They look at him, golden eyebrow lit by a million burning stars raised.

"Would you like to repeat the question? Challenge my wisdom? Quite frankly, I think free will was a one-off but I might be wrong. There is a second time for everything."

Metatron gulps.

"Ah, I see. Well, reality-bending is easy. We've already turned the set into a castle _twice_ but they refused to believe that reality. It's just that the writers on the TV show have been terribly stubborn. Other prayers have failed. We think it's management. Some blathering about DC Canon as if they were gods themselves. I don't see how we can honor free will, and force the humans at the same time."

God taps their fingers on the stone of the throne.

"You're not wrong."

They snap their fingers excitedly and far away, a universe bursts forth, surprised and afraid. The echo meant the big bang -- secretly a 'red hot' jelly bean -- popped a bit early.

"Idea! These shows are written by writers but performed by actors. We replace the _actors_ with our agents. At a point, they'll have to take what footage they're given rather than shut down shop and lose money. We need angels who can sell it. Who aren't afraid to get a little sweaty up close. Who do we have?"

Metatron scrolls and pinches across his own tablet.

"The brunette, we have in house. I can ask Lena'sael. Dead ringer. She's creative, worship. I feel I should warn you. Gets results without fail but willing to deal with unsavory characters."

God smiles.

"I'm more than aware of her crush on Kara'zel, Metatron. Amuses me watching them pine and almost kiss across history a thousand times. The Head of a Pin department uses them as a benchmark, now. How many fallen got to keep their beauty when cast out, hmm?"

"Ah. Yes. Most merciful of you, then and now. I'll see to it and I'm sure Lena'sael can...coax her counterpart."

God nods and rests their chin on their hand.

"I've no doubt."

_This is going to be FUN to watch._


	2. Sighs of the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where it's just not the same, bunnies get really old really fast, and the Circle of Lust is like a cold shower compared to kissing her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Word of Author in this world is that angels are allowed to have sex they're just so terribly shy and so well supplied with hugs -- whole Choir set aside for that -- that most don't get curious about other forms of physical touch.

**Kara'zrel | Formerly the Seraphim of Hope | Currently Chief of Sanatic Operations for Mischievous Animals and Cute Drunks**

Lilith is good at sex. Sort of the whole point of her existing. 

Her tongue has brought queens and saints and even warrior maidens to hell, begging to feel it one more time. Her molten, searing core has broken the will of kings and makes addicts out of cardinals, holy men, and once -- just for fun -- a statue of Jesus standing over a village in Bolivia.

Kara feels next to nothing. There's heat, yes and delicious little tickles and _everything_ her body could possibly feel. It's like a warm bath and no more. Anytime she starts to get turned on, she looks down and it's horns, not silky black locks and it's crimson eyes, not green and the fantasy dies.

The demoness shoves her chair back in protest.

"How?" she roars. "You feather tailed bitch! How do you refuse me? By what _right_ do you mock me?"

Kara'zrel shrugs. She buttons the clasp on her trousers -- oiled pervertskin, which is somehow both sinfully tickling on the parts and wildly disgusting -- and sighs.

"I'm not sure myself. You don't have to have me, you know. Not as if the rest of the council hasn't already caved."

Lilith shakes her long, manicured, claw-tipped finger.

"Don't you _dare!_ I will fuck you until you go mad and _beg_ for another!"

"I doubt that," Kara'zrel snaps, feeling something old and familiar in her veins. "You said it. Feather tailed. How many of the untainted fallen are left? Just...me. Whatever ineffability has planned, perhaps it's with someone else."

"I don't care if I have to storm the gates and take your feathered little twat apart with a spo-"

Kara's armor manifests around her and her wing's feathers go from crimson to gold, something that hasn't happened since the Earth was part of a disc of dust around the sun. Her halo bursts to life and her wings split and split and split until all ten return and it feels half as good as Lena's thumb on her hand and infinitely better than all the pleasures Hell offers it's rulers.

She can't help it, she moans.

_Well that's...new...or I guess, old._

Kara swings with her lower right wings and feathers stiff as her rage catch Lilith's skin and trickles of black blood run down from her chin, her breasts, and her navel. Kara walks forwards and Lilith scuttles back.

"If you look for her, if she so much as lays eyes on you and makes a _sound_ , you will suffer. Pluck so much as _one feather_ and I will strike you down with great and glorious vengeance. Think I can't?"

"He would never allow it. YOU-YOU-YOU WERE A GRUNT IN HIS ARMY! YOU ARE NOTHING NEXT TO MY HUSBAND!"

"Look at me! I STILL HAVE WHAT HE HAS HAD TAKEN FROM HIM!" she roars. "WHY DO YOU THINK THAT MIGHT BE?"

"Do I look like I give one soiled tail feather what he thinks? DO I?"

Lilith scrambles to her feet and bolts, managing to step on her the dildo-like tip of her tail in the process and yelping in pain.

Kara slumps back into her chair and picks up a bunny.

"Sorry to scare you, Fluffy. Sorry to you too, Mr. Whiskers. I know, I know, Fluffy 2187, you don't like loud noises."

They don't really react. They are, at the end of the day, bunnies. Something about a freelance demon named Anya who went into acting in horror and comedy shows and developed a fear of rabbits. So upon catching her escape, God sent her back and flooded Hell with herds of overly-affectionate white rabbits who don't take kindly to being taken out of someone's lap. The beasts were so tough and quick that not even pit fiends could catch, let alone kill one.

She sighs. Lena's laugh tinkles in her memories and her wings don't go away, which is sort of like why boys carry their books in front of them when they see a pretty girl.

She does have a bunny she can pet. 

It helps.

She pours some wine -- distilled from the screams of animal torturers -- from the decanter and sips it. It tastes of sorriness and repentance and empathy earned too late, with a note or two of chocolate and cherry.

_I think of Lena every other breath. Why the wings? Why Now?_

One of her assistant imps comes by, carrying her phone on a tray. Modern smartphones are banned -- too easy to get a good signal down here, which really explains a _lot_ about how Verizon got so big -- and Lucifer really can't have uncensored internet access.

"Call for you, your awfulness."

"Thank you for interrupting me, Footlick! Long day. We should never have invented Mondays. They were left out for a reason."

She casts her eyes over her desk strewn with bunnies, contraband chocolate, and a neat stack of papers -- old habits -- and looks for something to thank him with. The imps will lie, cheat, steal and spy for her because she's a good boss.

"Here. I think this one likes you best. You should keep her."

She hands him a small, jittery female and the rabbit immediately hops from his hand to his shoulder to his twisted-up horns and nestles in.

"Bloodskittles!" he squeals. "Thank you, your awfulness!"

She glances at the phone and wills it to ring.

"Hello, Ninth Circle Admin Department, how may I direct your call?"

"Hello, old friend..." a familiar, silky, perfect voice purrs. "I haven't the details, but my bosses talked to your bosses. We have a job. On Earth. Free rein, or close to."

"What's the job?"

_As if I wouldn't take sewer-cleaning technician if it was with her._

"Play lovers on a TV show."

Kara groans. Her toes curl and her whole body shakes. White light explodes out in every direction. 

"That lonely, eh?"

"Mmm. Hadn't heard the right voice. See you soon?"

"See you soon."

"Footlick? Could you, ah, fetch me a clean set of trousers, please? Perhaps a towel?"

"At once!"


	3. Like Falling Off a Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where letting an archdemon run around doesn't lead to what was expected, being in a book doesn't make it true and also there's some logistical concerns and lots of dogs.

**Kara'zrel - Earth - Vancouver**

Kara digs her fingers into the loam with near-sexual glee. 

"Hello, Earth. Missed ya."

Soiled. Dirty. Heavy and thick and substantial and _mortal_ and she's not only face down in it, it's muddying her feathers. 

It's muddying her feathers. Her feathers on her wings. Her God-granted wings, that she hadn't felt spread behind her -- not in their full glory -- in literal _ages._ Narrow but long and _ten of them_ strong and _powerful_ and _restless_ and itches to move are spreading in the muscles of her back

Wings that angels in good standing are required to hide up here -- down here, she supposes -- without explicit permission from the Throne.

"What is her problem?" woman mutters.

"Ren faire got rowdy!" a man chortles. "Nice!"

Kara pushes herself upright and reaches up to rub her horns. Each fallen received a different punishment but most feel along the middle of a bell curve -- black or green or red skin, ram's or bull's horns, scales, forked tongue -- without an overabundance of variety. Why put too much artistry in branding criminals?

God decided to punish _her_ by making her into something between a woman, an owl, a griffon and what one mark at a music festival called a 'total unit'. Cannabis wouldn't evolve for hundreds of millions of years but the beta version was clearly filling God's workshop that day.

Her ten wings were broken and fused into two and the majestic, eagle-like feathers became softer, puffier and more bendable but in a useful tradeoff, deadly silent in comparison. She has horns, true, but there's a smooth, slender antelope type of horns, six of them in a corkscrewing hoop shape that nearly meet at the top. Throw some Christmas lights on and it's a halo. Tail? Slightly longer and thicker by far than that skank Lilith and clad in irritatingly puffy down feathers that get everywhere under a layer of silky feathers like turtledoves. Claws? That's where the lion comes in.

Hopefully _,_ her true form is something Lena can still stand to look at when they're out of their disguises.

She can't find her horns. Apparently, because her horns are gone. Her hand passes through pure warmth.

 _Halo._

She spreads her wings. Still owl-like but snow-white now and longer. Snowy Owl, if anyone ever puts her in a bird book.

_That'll compliment Lena's gloss well._

She tries to flick her tail. Bupkis. Just a rustling sound. The problem with having a tail, as any demon will tell you, is that you can't really check if it's injured. It's behind you and usually reflexive if not downright confrontational in its movements. Nature of the beast. She grabs and grabs and finally, with a yelp, plucks one of her own feathers.

A tail feather and by the length of it, anchored to something less prehensile and more suited to shaking and fluffing in Lena's face. Twerking...maybe Lena would like that. They'd released that from the queue in the Bad Trends department, right?

She has been completely remade for the second time and most demons would think her just an angel that drew some unlucky and less than fear-inspiring genetics.

"What the f-" 

"Fu-"

"Ful-"

"Fur-"

She tries to grind the word out.

"Fork. Fine!" she snaps, looking Heavenward. "Love you too, _mom."_

A golden retriever puppy barks at her and drops into a play bow.

 _God laughs through puppies,_ Lena once told her.

Kara meets the beast's gesture, making her armor clank as she mimics the wiggling.

"Grr."

**Yip!**

The animal takes off and she leaps to the air, tracing the little critter's mad zig-zag through the park and casting her shadow over joggers and an old man feeding ducks and making a spaniel -- bird hunter, after all -- lose its entire mind.

The pups about to run straight into a highway and a little boy, smirking, is getting ready to dump a box of its littermates there with it. There's no thought. Wings out, blade out, blood sizzling in her veins, she intercepts the box before its contents spill into concrete and death and tucks it under one arm. Looping to gain speed she comes up, snagging the pup that sought her out with her free hand and plunking it into the box. Her blade passes up, taking the front of the kid's bowl haircut off but drawing no blood.

Beat by beat she lowers herself, slowly, so as to not disturb her new family.

"I...I wanted to see if they'd make noises."

Kara's eyes drill into his.

He really did want to see if they'd make noises. Maybe cry? They were his neighbors. She doesn't know he took them. Since Kara took these, maybe his mom's cat? Meet one empty, hollow, dangerous shell that's only shaped like a person and you've met them all.

Angels need to hesitate. She doesn't. She skewers him in the heart. 

"Dying hurts, kid. It's alone and it's cold and it scares you and if you don't learn that now, innocent animals and kids will learn it later and unlike you, I'm not enjoying myself."

When she pulls it out, the blade sheds the blood and sizzles white hot. Contradictory signs. Fiery like a hell blade but also refusing the stain, like an angel working vengeance. It wasn't a truly righteous kill but it didn't smell of hellfire or carry the echoing screams of the damned.

The kid has a phone and his password is 'kill' as spelled out on a phone pad. Naturally. She pulls up Google Maps, Twitter and the local pet shelter. _Not nearly good enough. The poor dears look too sad._

The carrier's app tells her where to find a store. She drops the boy's phone on the body and presses the emergency button. She speaks a prayer for the lost in Verbis Deus and part of her, the part that made her fall, wonders if he even is worth that.

"Well," she tells her new friends. "That was a hel-" 

"A he-"

"Her-"

"Honk of a wake-up call."

Peals of excited barking follow her into the air as she takes wing. 

"Look!" someone calls out.

"What the hell?"

_Oh sure, they get to say it._

"Is that a bird?"

Kara laughs.

"No, it's Supergirl."

=====

Kara alights in the alley behind the Apple Store, disguises herself -- one of her punishments was sneezing fits when she does magic -- and holds the box of pups tight under her right arm. 

The no-pets policy vanishes the moment two lonely college students see them.

The line parts because the people involved just think maybe they should borrow a puppy for a minute instead.

Her new iPhone costs quality time with _each_ puppy and the manager of the Genius Bar bending her over the iPad repair table with her tattooed fingers slicing and twisting in Kara's cunt, pulling the orgasm out of her hard and rough, like she's clearing a drain.

Lilith herself could barely get a twitch out of her. This girl, this _human_ can make her gush inro her palm while whispering just about every word Kara is now mentally unable to say in her ear. She can make her cunt pulse and shiver and quake. State of mind, probably. The hope of seeing Lena. Of working with her not just passing by in the Crusades or the Rose Theatre when the Bard was having a bad day.

_What? Cunt? How can I think that word but not... Right. Mysterious ways._

"Whew," Amanda laughs, rubbing up and down Kara's spine. "I _like_ you. You good?"

Kara nods.

"I'll take two of the best of everything."

"Whoa, lady, you're a treat but that's a bit more than I can just sign ou-"

She holds out a puppy and turns her charm on. The girl can't see the feathers and the gleaming armor but her gut tells her that it's beautiful and luminous and something to be obeyed. 

"Say no to her little face. I dare you."

To her credit, she tries but 'no' sticks in this girl's throat just like actual profanity does in Kara's.

"Ugh, fine. But I want digits so I can crash at your place when I get fired."

Kara holds out her hand. The one without the puppy.

"Deal. We're struggling actresses. You can help my girl with her lines for room and board. Maybe some boss-secretary roleplay. You get to stay with us, you chip in on food and the trade is you eat my girl out whenever she wants. "

Amanda's eyes go wide.

"I mean, if she's like you..."

"I'm the plain one, honey."

"Fuck. Can't wait to get fired," Amanda laughs. "Give me thirty minutes to clear some serial numbers and I'll meet you out back."

Kara takes her phone and the puppies outback. She knits leashes out of the employee lanyards she stole by the fistful and rigs up little harnesses for each.

"Five of you, huh? Just like the five Knights. That's just a coincidence."

One of the puppies tilts its head at her.

"Fine. You're Gabriel, little fella."

"Uriel, just such a pretty girl."

"Michael. Because you're the grouchy one."

"Hmm. You look like an Azrael but she's not a Knight. Raphael? Nope. Metatron? Hard pass."

_Wait. We were the last two. Lena and me. That'd be a bit egotistical but..._

"You're Melissa and you're Katie."

=====

At some point she'll have to stop pushing her luck and stealing this actress's livelihood seems like the line not to cross. A service for 'discrete understudies' has been set up and the bland webpage just screams Metatron. Miss Benoist's twitter is awash in pregnancy memes and sarcastic complaints. Looks like Eve's punishment is kicking her right in the box.

Kara pulls up Twitter and sends a DM with a quick selfie and her number. The reply is a phone call.

"Mirror Mirror Talent Company, how may I direct your call?"

"Yeah, uh...I'm an actress and I, err..."

"No need to be bashful," Kara teases. "Services rendered and consenting adults and all that."

"Right. Thing is, this baby stuff is bit harder than mommy blogs make it look like and they're not even here yet and inducing tomorrow isn't going to get me onto the set four weeks from now and I love my jo-"

She trails off into sobs.

"Babies are expensive, ma'am. I get it. Would it be too forward of me to say that you want to keep doing this job for your daughter? You could just leave bu-"

"But little girls coming up to me at cons would ask me why!" she wails. "Why wasn't I Supergirl anymore? And I wouldn't know what to tell them. That being a mom was better than that? Becaus-"

She exhales raggedly.

"It would mean everything to me if that show stayed on the air."

Kara clicks her tongue.

"We get backing from the company. About half union rates. Mostly, it's a way to get on the job training we can use when we're getting roles in our name. Here's my suggestion. I step in, we keep it on the down-low and I do the camera-pointy stuff and you do the squealy-fan stuff. Bring me as much merchandise as you can mooch from ComicCon next year. That, eBay and my girlfriend's paycheck will be enough."

"I don't have to uh, pay you?"

"That'd kinda defeat the point, sweetie. We forward your check to a bank account and you forward it out."

Melissa hums.

"Deal. I feel like I should at least know your name, if you're doing this for me."

"It's Kiera."

"Ha! I gotta call Calista. She'll have a fit! Thanks, Kiera."

Kara hangs up. One of the puppies whines.

"Oh, don't you judge me. That signed merch makes _bank_ and you need dog food."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kara'zrel, former Knight of the Throne, honor guard to God themself takes two things seriously: loving Lena and loving puppies. In that order. 
> 
> Toppy Genius Bar girl will return at some point.


	4. The Wide World of AlephThirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will have links to social media related to my works, my supporting websites and so on. There will be a chapter on each story for this so you can enjoy these no matter what your jam is.
> 
> This isn't a replacement for comments, it's just a lounge our party can hang out in...

Discord (I'm on most of the day, mute it at night)

<https://discord.gg/j4QrQF4>  
  
Kryptowiki (codex with expanded info, sections per story)

[kryptowiki.stufftoread.com](https://kryptowiki.stufftoread.com)  


It's up, with some minimal information but definitely needs to grow...thankfully, it's a wiki!


End file.
